Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
You have no idea what you do to me, Kylie, he thinks.
I just want to be yours, my mind whispers to him. Forever.
And he sucks gently at my neck, feeding off my blood, while he continues to thrust his cock inside me.
My eyes fall closed, and my senses fall over a cliff of rapture.
It’s not like the orgasms I’ve given myself with a vibrator or my hand—it’s beyond any earthly thing I’ve ever experienced.
It is cosmic and celestial and transcendent of this universe and the next.
Rook Slater and I aren’t one person—but we should be.
His groan is low and deep as his tongue lashes over the wound at my neck and forces it closed, and despite the continued pleasure of our connection, I miss it.
I can see how I could get addicted to it—how he could have me begging for it day in and day out. Because I already want him to do it again. And again. And again. Self-preservation is no longer a thing. I’m reckless in my need for him.
“You’re mine,” he says against the new and tender flesh, and I nod vigorously in reply.
“I’m yours,” I agree.
His mouth finds mine and takes me in a kiss so intense, I almost lose track of everything else. Of the room, of the world, of time and space and matter.
“You’re mine,” I whisper when he’s done, testing out the words on my tongue and loving them instantly.
They aren’t just nice—they’re perfect.
“I’m yours,” he agrees. “In this world and the next and everything in between, Kylie Moon. I’ll be yours until time no longer exists.”
I wake to the smell of pot roast.
And the realization hits before I open my eyes, sinking deep into my chest like a weight I didn’t know I’d been carrying. The air is warm and familiar, laced with rosemary and onions and something sweet I can’t quite place.
I sit up too fast, heart slamming against my chest while the quilt covering my body slips down my waist. And instantly, my vision is filled with the sights and memories of the place I called home for most of my life.
Gammy’s house.
My eyes dart around my old childhood bedroom, taking inventory of pink walls and floral curtains and the old oak dresser with the chipped corner I used to stub my toe on as a kid.
“How…?” I whisper, and when I look toward the window, I find Rook sitting in the chair I used to curl up in when I was a teenage girl sneak-reading my grandmother’s Harlequin romance novels.
He has a notepad and pen in his hand as he scribbles furiously at an inhuman speed. When he notices my open eyes, he freezes completely.
“How…how did we get here?” I ask. Last thing I knew, I’d fallen asleep in the hotel bed, my legs intertwined with his much larger ones after making love for the first time.
His smirk is smooth and cocky as he raises a shoulder. “There are a lot of things I’m capable of that are going to come as a shock to you at first. Some of them you learned yesterday. Some of them you learned this morning.”
“And what?” I snort. “You couldn’t, say, do the kidnapping this way, with your super sleuth-y voodoo vampire magic? Slide in while I was asleep on the couch, have us avoid the whole violent battle with three ominous men in my driveway, and wake me up with a coffee or something?”
He chuckles, and butterflies dance in my chest at the sound. It’s beautiful and so intrinsically satisfying. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
“A fair point, and a far better plan than I executed myself,” he admits with a smile. “But you have to understand, before you were mine, I knew you were supposed to be. Fighting against it robbed me of every ounce of my finesse.”
“And why did you fight it?” I ask then, my voice soft. “If we’re so meant to be, why didn’t you just…flirt? Let it happen?”
Standing slowly, he sets his pad and pen to the side and walks to the bed to lean over me with his hands at my waist. His eyes are calm, but his lips are tight as he touches them to mine. “Get dressed,” he says cryptically instead of answering. “Some of this…is better heard from someone else.”
“Someone else? Someone else who?”
The question is barely out of my mouth before he’s out of the room, flashed down the hall in a blurred cloud of speed.
Annoyed and intrigued at once, I climb out of the bed, throw on the blue and yellow striped matching sweats he’s laid out at the foot of it, and make quick work of peeing and brushing my teeth before heading down the hall.
When I get to the kitchen, my grandmother and Rook are both sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me. Even knowing we’re at her house, and that it makes sense for her to be here, the sight of the two of them sitting there so casually comes as a complete shock.